I'll See You Later
by ink and ashes
Summary: Garrus, Shepard, and saying goodbye. Spoilers.


**DISCLAIMER: **I own nothing but this persistent idea.

**I'LL SEE YOU LATER**

_ My name is Elizabeth Shepard and you are at peace._

He hadn't understood how he could hear her so clearly when she was nowhere to be found. Like files taken from the vast archive of his mind, he shuffled through the databanks until the memory fleshed out, flashing before his eyes sharper than a holovid. They'd been in the midst of battle at the time, he recalled, tense and bloodied in the war to end all wars. Static jolted through communications, screeching in their ears as all frequencies were jammed and eventually silenced. Even as orders were given to regain contact with ground teams, her voice whispered again, soft and soothing and so very familiar.

_Do not fear. _

_ I am with you now. You are safe._

_ Do not fear the Reapers._

_ Do not fear me._

x

_I miss you_

x

Lights dimmed, consoles shut down. With his visor rendered useless, Garrus Vakarian wondered briefly if he was losing his mind; after all, hearing his commander's disembodied voice was enough to throw him on psyche leave till the end of his days. Troubled, he looked to his squad mates and noticed their bewildered expressions. Liara T'Soni, especially, looked ready to collapse.

His eyes widened. In the gloom, the viridescent glow caught his attention and, confused, he watched alien markings shimmer across the surface of the asari's azure skin. They faded and reappeared, symbols and numbers running faintly across her brow, only to disappear as quickly as they had come. Liara met his gaze and gasped, revealing ryncol-green eyes where he remembered blue. Around him, he saw the same strangeness in the humans, saw them stare in disbelief and wonder; their unnatural light brightened the room anew. Chatter resumed, hushed murmurs and rapid-fire questions thickening the air.

"What the hell is this?"

"We're fucking _glowing_."

"Did you hear—?"

_Do not fear._

"There it is again!"

"You heard her, too?"

Garrus nearly lost his balance.

x

_I wanna get with you_

x

"Shepard," he breathed, barely a gust of sound, but it was enough silence the uneasy muttering for a few seconds.

"_Dios mio._" James Vega, rubbing a hand over his glimmering face. "Lola?"

Liara shook her head. "How is this possible?"

_The cycle is broken._

_You will surpass mortality. Organic and synthetic are no longer hindered by limitations given to your design. You are one._

_You are the keepers of those who have lived before you. I will be your bridge to the past. Their mistakes will bring you knowledge; do not squander this chance. The future is yours to do with as you wish. Together, you will rebuild what has been lost. Your unity is what saved you this day and it will continue to protect you in your darkest hour._

_Never forget the cost of this peace. Never forget the sacrifice._

_My name is Elizabeth Shepard and I was a human. Now, I am you._

In the ensuing stillness, he thought that the end of the telepathic transmission. Instead, her words continued in a message meant for his mind alone.

_Garrus_, said his lover, a sweet caress stroking the inner walls of his consciousness. A shiver went through him. _I'm afraid I'll be the only one at the bar for now. I'll keep your seat warm and the drinks coming for you, babe. I know how grumpy you get when they keep you waiting. _

He couldn't breathe.

_I tried. I really, really tried. Nothing else made sense and… I had to make a choice. Humans are so selfish, babe—I don't know what you saw in me. I wanted to tell that little jackass to shove it up his ass. Almost did, too. But I thought of you and if there was a way to keep you alive… I had to take it. I'm sorry. You mean more to me than anything; the galaxy can burn for all I give a shit. But I couldn't let you burn with it and I couldn't let you die with me. You were one of the only good things in my life. Can you blame me for wanting to make sure you lived to see old age?_

Yes, he could. He really, really wanted to.

_I'll miss you, baby. _

Not as much as he'd miss her.

X

_But I cannot, baby girl_

_And that's the issue_

x

_Just remember: no matter where you go, who you meet, or what you do from now on, you'll never find anyone who loves you as much as I do. _

He gritted his fangs together, a surge of pure agony ripping through him.

_I'll bet you my favorite rifle on that._

"Garrus?" Liara seemed worried and Garrus wondered if she'd overheard the private message.

He didn't care.

Without another word, Garrus shook off his visor and marched from the room, unable to speak, unable to breathe with so many people around. He had to get away; his grief was too great to save face and though he'd damn his honor from here to Palaven just to see _her _again, he needed to be alone.

He needed to smell her, to hold her, to talk to her. He needed to see that weird smile of hers, needed to feel the soft tendrils of what she called hair.

He needed to hear her laugh, needed to hear the strange pitch of her voice.

He needed to feel her blunt fingers tracing his plates, his fringe, his mandibles.

He needed to see the scars that so wonderfully marred her.

He needed _her_, but she was gone.

His feet found their way up to her cabin and for once, he did not care who saw. Everything was as she'd left it, as _they'd _left it; even the bed sheets were still tousled and torn from their heated encounter. Stepping closer, he could still taste her in the air, the heady tang of human sweat clinging to the mattress. He'd probably find strands of her hair on the pillows as he had so many times before—he'd enjoyed teasing her about molting all over him.

Slowly, he sank to the floor, his back against the fluffy bed she'd loved so much.

He remembered her glassy, groggy eyes and her tongue that tasted of stale morning. He remembered her sleep-scented hollows and the dip of her navel as he held her waist, marveling at the way her muscles flexed beneath her skin; the way she twisted and writhed above him, beneath him, around him as he moved within her was amazing. Slick, hot, and smooth, he'd idly wondered if she'd been engineered specifically for him and he'd been addicted since that first night before the Omega-4 Relay, when nerves and a bottle of cheap wine had turned into something more. Of course, he'd shredded her blankets in his excitement, covering them both with feathers and strips of cloth. He remembered complaining that turians were not meant for fragile human comforts, what with their claws and fangs and pointy ends. She'd told him to quit his bitching and that she was more than happy with his 'pointy ends'.

He'd never complained again.

x

_I just wanna kiss you_

_But I can't right now_

x

"She's really gone, isn't she?"

Garrus didn't have the strength to move, let alone look at her. He figured the question to be rhetorical and while he'd always thought of little Tali as a child in some ways, he knew she was smart enough, mature enough to understand his inability to speak.

"I…" He sensed her moving closer. "I don't believe it. I think we should search. Gather some of the men and—"

"She's gone," he whispered, unable to give her false hope.

"She can't be gone," Tali argued, her voice rising. Denial and hysteria fueled her ire. "She's… she's… she's _Shepard!_ After everything we… after every she's… no. _No_. I won't believe it—you're just being cynical. You, of _all_ people, shouldn't give up on her, Gar—"

The fury in his glare kept her from continuing. "Leave, Tali," he ordered, low and harsh. He genuinely liked Tali, but he didn't need her desperate optimism.

"I—"

"_Leave._"

Her glowing eyes stared at him and whatever she saw there must have convinced her to heed his words. He was left alone again. The pale blue glow of _her_ aquarium hummed into the silence and he leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

x

_So kiss me through the phone_

x

His mate was gone and he hadn't even had the courage to tell her, to mark her as his. He'd believed a human's devotion to be different, had allowed old prejudices to keep him uncertain of her sincerity, despite what he knew of her. Their acquaintance felt woefully short, in retrospect, and their time together as intimate whatever they'd been even shorter; his hesitance made sense, but it was no excuse. A part of him howled with the injustice of it all, while another hated his own weakness. He should have known better.

By the Spirits, she was _Shepard_. He trusted her with his life, his rifle, his everything.

She would have teased him for his fears, would have rolled her eyes at him for staying silent. Lifemates were no laughing matter, but he could imagine her chortling at his worry of being rejected and simultaneously berating him for not asking sooner; Shepard hated waiting.

But she was gone now.

She'd died alone, without any of her comrades, her _friends_ by her side. Without knowing how much he loved her. Without knowing how much he'd always love her.

The galaxy was saved, the threat extinguished. The process of rebuilding would take a long, long time, healing even longer. Today, people everywhere would celebrate the historical triumph over impending annihilation, the promise of better tomorrows—of _having _tomorrows—would keep the alcohol flowing well into the next day. Injuries and casualties would be accounted for and taken care of, funerals and ceremonies arranged, diplomatic relations confirmed and negotiated, and so much more than he could possibly wrap his head around.

But none of that mattered because Shepard, _his _Shepard was gone, and the future had never seemed so bleak.

x

_I'll see you later on_

x


End file.
